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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22525504">Sharing a horse, sharing a bed</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fakevermeer/pseuds/fakevermeer'>fakevermeer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Barebacking, Explicit Consent, Horseback Riding, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Teasing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 11:47:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,636</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22525504</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fakevermeer/pseuds/fakevermeer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The horse is off-limits. Jaskier knows this. Geralt has said so. Many, many times. And yet, here they are, pressed against each other on Roach’s back.<br/> <br/>“Uh.” Jaskier manages to say, eloquent as ever.<br/> <br/>“Not. A. Word,” the witcher growls.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>414</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sharing a horse, sharing a bed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With about as much grace as a kikimora after getting stabbed through the brain by a certain witcher, Jaskier crashes face first into the dirt.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck,” he repeats, more muffled this time.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Jaskier</em>!” Geralt hisses, and Jaskier can hear him dismounting Roach. “I told you we need to be <em>quiet</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier rolls on to his back with a groan. “Yes, well, that was before the path turned into… no path. You could’ve warned me about the rabbit holes.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Geralt begrudgingly sticks out a hand for Jaskier to grab. He pulls him upright, and immediately has to hold him up, as Jaskier puts some weight on the ankle he just most certainly twisted, and almost doubles over in pain.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuuuuuuck.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Quiet</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>You</em> try being quiet when <em>you</em> break <em>your</em> ankle!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Geralt practically drops him, and Jaskier wants to shout at him, but then Geralt is peeling back Jaskier’s sock and part of his trousers to inspect his ankle, so he keeps his mouth shut.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not broken.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Since when are you a healer?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Trust me, I know what a broken ankle looks like. It’s not broken.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, it bloody well hurts like a –” Jaskier starts, voice rising, but then Geralt’s hand is on his mouth and he can’t finish his perfectly justified complaints.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“Be <em>quiet</em>. This forest is not safe, we need to get through it as soon as possible, and reach Oxenfurt</span> <span class="s1">before sundown.”</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Before Jaskier could get any more protesting in, Geralt hoists him over his shoulder unceremoniously, and Jaskier finds himself being plopped on Roach’s back. Geralt climbs on after him and positions himself in front of Jaskier without a word.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The horse is off-limits. Jaskier knows this. Geralt has said so. Many, <em>many</em> times. And yet, here they are, pressed against each other on Roach’s back.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh.” Jaskier manages to say, eloquent as ever.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not. A. Word,” the witcher growls, and Jaskier pretends to zip his lips, then realizes Geralt can’t see him. Probably for the best.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So Jaskier does his best to keep silent the rest of the way. His ankle is throbbing, and Roach’s movements are not doing it any favors. The rocking back and forth and the lack of being able to hold on to anything except… well, <em>Geralt</em>, is causing Jaskier to slide impossibly close to Geralt’s back. His crotch is resting directly against Geralt’s ass, and it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Geralt, I don’t want to worry you, but I am literally <em>inside</em> you right now,” he manages to murmur into Geralt’s ear.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He can feel Geralt’s back tensing up ever so slightly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A terse “hmmm” is the only response Jaskier gets.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier generally doesn’t see himself as prankster, per se, but annoying Geralt and pushing the witcher’s buttons has become a fun little way to pass the time. Especially when he needs to distract himself from a very painful ankle, and he’s plastered against the back of a very attractive man.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So maybe he takes advantage of the situation. Maybe he exaggerates the movements of his hips a little bit, maybe the arm that was dangling uselessly on his side comes to rest around Geralt’s waist. Maybe, just maybe, he is really enjoying himself. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why are you doing that.” Geralt’s usually monotonous voice has a terse tone to it, and Jaskier can’t help but grin.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Whatever do you mean?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Roach missteps slightly on the uneven forest floor and Jaskier practically thrusts up against Geralt as a result.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">An annoyed grunt. “That. Why are you doing <em>that</em>.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not doing anything, Geralt. We’re just sharing a horse is all.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hmm. Just keep quiet. We’re almost out of the forest.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier makes a mental note of the fact that Geralt doesn’t outright tell him to stop, so… he doesn’t. Once they leave the last sparse trees behind and Geralt tells Roach to pick up the pace, Jaskier matches the motions of his hips with Geralt’s perfectly. He’s not being subtle about it, and he’s absolutely sure that Geralt has noticed that Jaskier may have gotten himself impressively hard in the process, but he doesn’t say a word.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">*</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">An hour later - or at least, Jaskier thinks it must’ve been an hour - Oxenfurt appears in the distance. It’s late in the afternoon now, and although Jaskier is still enjoying himself by occasionally grinding into Geralt when the road is giving him the opportunity, he has to admit his ass is getting sore from being on the horse. His thighs are tired and he could really do with a bath. The pain in his ankle is basically gone, but he’s not going to tell Geralt <em>that</em> anytime soon. He wraps his arms around Geralt’s waist and puts his cheek against his broad back.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">*</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oxenfurt isn’t like the small villages they’ve come across the past few weeks. As it turns out, there is some kind of art festival going on. Every single inn they check with is booked solid, except for one. There is a room available at The Open Book tavern. A single room, with one bed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We’ll take it,” Geralt grunts at the bright-eyed tavern keep, who gracefully takes their coin and hands them a key. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Have a good night, gentlemen,” she says, looking Geralt up and down, and winking suggestively at Jaskier. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier manages to suppress a snort. As he follows Geralt up the stairs to the room, he suddenly thinks maybe he’s gone too far. Sharing a room with Geralt when he’s in a <em>mood</em> is not the best idea.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Listen,” he starts, entering the tiny room, but Geralt spins around, shuts the door and pins Jaskier against it in one fluid motion. Before Jaskier can finish what he had intended to be an apology for the teasing, Geralt’s lips are pressed against his.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier’s instincts make him open his mouth and let Geralt in, even while his brain is still trying to catch up to reality. Geralt’s hips are pressed against his, and Jaskier can feel the hard length of him against his thigh. Jaskier can’t help but push himself off the door, as close to Geralt as possible, hands roaming across Geralt’s wide back.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So my annoying you <em>did</em> have some effect,” he mutters smugly as they part for a second to catch their breath. “I was starting to think you and your stoic ways were impervious to my wily charms.”</span>
  
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You have no idea,” Geralt grunts, eyes fixed on Jaskier’s mouth. “You are… You’re terrible.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Horrible, the worst, a nuisance – yeah, I’ve heard them all.” Jaskier replies, rolling his eyes and letting one hand snake down between the two of them. He boldly grabs Geralt’s cock through his trousers. “And yet… Here we are.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jaskier,” Geralt growls, almost as a warning, before leaning in and licking into Jaskier’s mouth again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier feels Geralt’s hands move down his sides and reach behind to grab his ass, lifting him up. Jaskier swings his legs around Geralt’s hips and clings to him, breathing hard.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I wanted to do this all day,” Geralt mutters as he carries Jaskier unceremoniously to the single bed. “The way to Oxenfurt was so long.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier lets himself be dropped on his back on the bed and relishes in the feeling of Geralt taking control – for now. Geralt’s knees bracket his hips as he leans down and buries his face in Jaskier’s neck. His hands are attempting to undo the complicated knotwork on Jaskier’s tunic, but a frustrated groan tells Jaskier all he needs to know.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He puts his palms against Geralt’s shoulders and pushes. Geralt goes easily, and Jaskier rolls them over so he can sit on Geralt’s hips. With Geralt’s eyes on him, he slowly starts undoing the row of knots that adorns the front of his tunic.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Geralt is just staring up at him, hands grabbing at the sheets as if they’re the only thing keeping him grounded. Slowly undressing himself, Jaskier makes sure to keep moving his hips ever so slightly. He tosses his tunic mindlessly on the floor and bends down to put his hands on either sides of Geralt’s head, leaning over him. He lowers his mouth to Geralt’s ear.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I want to fuck you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Geralt groans.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier continues, a grin pulling on the corners of his mouth: “And then, I want you to fuck me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Fuck</em>, Jaskier.” Geralt’s eyes flutter closed for a second.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier presses his lips to the vein in Geralt’s neck and sucks a mark into his skin, simultaneously unbuttoning Geralt’s much simpler shirt. “Is that a yes?”</span>
  
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Geralt’s hands leave the bedding alone and start helping Jaskier to get rid of as many pieces of clothing as they can. Jaskier moves around a little bit to accommodate and soon enough they’re both down to their smallclothes.</span>
  
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier leans down, slides his way down Geralt’s body, tongue dragging a wet trail, and stops right before the edge of his undergarments.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He slowly starts to peel the fabric back, revealing Geralt’s cock. He hovers over it with his lips, not quite touching. Then, he runs his tongue down the side of it, tip to base, lingering at Geralt’s balls.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Geralt groans something he can’t make out and Jaskier takes that as a good sign. He presses a few kisses on the insides of Geralt’s thighs, slowly making his way further down. The angle is making it more and more difficult for Jaskier to get where he wants to go, and his neck is starting to hurt. He pats Geralt’s thigh with a hand as he slowly gets up.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hands and knees, please,” he mutters. Seeing Geralt coming undone like this is doing things to his ability to speak properly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">While Geralt obliges, making the sheets rustle, Jaskier leans over to his pack on the ground, fishing around for a second until he finds the small vial of oil. When he turns back around, the sight that greets him makes him stop for a second. Geralt, naked, panting slightly, on his hands and knees, waiting for Jaskier to do what he wants with him. Jaskier’s cock twitches.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Gorgeous,” he mutters, moving behind Geralt. He kneels down, puts the oil aside for a second, and puts his hands on either side of Geralt’s ass, pushing outward. He leans in and licks a broad stripe from his perineum to his asshole.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Geralt shudders under him and Jaskier relishes in the low noises Geralt makes in the back of his throat.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier opens the vial of oil, coats a finger, and softly presses it against the tight ring of muscle. Geralt curses under his breath, and Jaskier takes that as a sign to start moving his finger slowly in and out.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hurry up,” Geralt growls over his shoulder.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier ignores the twitch his cock gives seeing Geralt like this, and keeps up the same tempo. “Patience, witcher, I don’t want to hurt you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Geralt makes a sound that Jaskier assumes is supposed to be a chuckle. “Don’t worry, <em>bard</em>, you won’t.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier keeps going, undeterred, but he does speed up a little. He adds a second finger after a few minutes, and feels Geralt freeze for a split second underneath him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay?” he asks, slowly moving his fingers in and out.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Faster,” Geralt growls.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier smirks but decides that he’s teased Geralt enough today, so he increases his speed and adds a third finger.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Fuck</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Geralt starts matching Jaskier’s rhythm with his hips and drops his head down onto his forearms. Jaskier’s hand falters for a second as he admires the view.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t fucking stop,” Geralt says. It sounds almost like a threat, and Jaskier decides it’s time to do the opposite of stopping.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He takes what’s left over of the oil on his hands and rubs it on his cock. He lines himself up, then slowly starts pressing into Geralt, who meets him by pressing his hips back.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fu-u-uck,” Jaskier sighs, eyes fluttering closed as he feels himself sink into Geralt. “Geralt.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jaskier.” Geralt’s voice hits a register so low it’s barely recognizable as a voice anymore. “Fuck me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier doesn’t need to be told twice – he doesn’t even think he would be able to stop himself at this point. He starts moving his hips, slowly at first, but increasing his speed with every thrust. Geralt feels tight and hot around him, and he already knows he won’t be able to last very long.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You feel <em>so</em> good,” he murmurs, hands roaming across Geralt’s back. Geralt moves to put a hand on his own cock, but Jaskier swats his arm away. “Not yet. I need you to fuck me after.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Geralt groans loudly and fists the bedsheets again in an attempt to give his hands something else to do. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not gonna last much longer,” Jaskier pants. Chasing his orgasm, his hips are stuttering and he can’t focus on anything else except the idea of coming in Geralt. Geralt clenches around him, and Jaskier is gone - his orgasm almost takes him by surprise, and he groans loudly as he spills into Geralt with a few desperate thrusts of his hips.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Geralt doesn’t let him come down from this high for long - he immediately flips them over, coats his fingers in oil, and works one finger into Jaskier while he’s still relaxed and pliant.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh,” Jaskier manages to gasp, as he feels Geralt working him open.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Geralt quickly adds a second finger, and Jaskier’s mouth forms a silent O. Geralt uses his free hand to give himself a few tugs. His cock is heavy and hard in his hand, and Jaskier can’t wait to find out how it feels when it fills him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A third finger, and Jaskier swats Geralt’s hand away again. “Just fuck me, I’m ready. Come on.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Geralt doesn’t question him. He pulls his fingers out, grabs Jaskier’s thighs to rest his legs against Geralt’s shoulders, and he lines himself up. He pushes in and his hips stutter, as if he tried to be gentle about it, but his body disagrees and wants him to be enveloped in Jaskier’s heat as quickly as possible.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier’s eyes flutter closed as he reaches his hands above his head. He finds the bed frame and holds on to it as if it’s a lifeline. Geralt starts moving his hips, and then Jaskier is getting fucked by the witcher.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Geralt murmurs, voice low, into Jaskier’s ear. His hips are picking up speed, and Jaskier notices Geralt starts to sound a little desperate. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier’s back arches off the bed, and his eyes are shut as he meets Geralt’s hips with every thrust. “Yeah, yeah, oh <em>fuck</em> yeah, keep going,” Jaskier rambles.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Geralt is positively slamming into Jaskier now, thrusts fast and hard. His grip on Jaskier’s legs is so tight he knows he’ll be bruised tomorrow.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jaskier,” he pants, hips stilling for a moment, and then he’s coming inside Jaskier, hot and wet and Jaskier wants to cry with pleasure.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Geralt stays right there for a few long, quiet seconds, where the only sound is their laboured breathing. Then, he carefully pulls out, lets go of Jaskier’s legs, and collapses on the bed next to Jaskier.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck,” Jaskier sighs, looking at the witcher beside him. “That was so fucking good.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hmm.” Geralt rolls on to his side to face Jaskier. “It was.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe we stay here for a little bit?” Jaskier proposes, wrapping his legs around Geralt carefully. “I’m pretty sure I’m physically unable to ride a horse tomorrow.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Geralt snorts and wraps his arms around Jaskier, holding him impossibly close. “That can be arranged. You know I didn’t want you on Roach in the first place.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier can hear the smile in Geralt’s voice, and he falls asleep knowing that they’ll be sharing the horse a lot more from now on.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">*</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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